Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Catching the Bread Thief (4)
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Unique Magic (????) was a collective term for independent magical systems—spells, incantations, formations, and rituals—established by the seven magic towers, distinct from both white and black magic.
Families that created Unique Magic were awarded at least a 3rd-class medal and a title of earl or higher simply for that achievement.
Additionally, the family head received a nickname incorporating the title of duke (?), imbued with respect and reverence.
Currently, the Penheim Kingdom had a total of five grand dukes.
Among them, Roshiar's Snow Duke enjoyed great renown for her exquisite beauty and astonishingly pure mana.
Even after the great war had ended, she remained in Helzev alongside Whitelett Margrave, dealing with the remnants of the demon race, and the masses expressed their admiration for her.
In fact, there were even murmurs in the taverns of the capital, Thessalon, questioning whether the Snow Duke wasn't stronger than Terra Ernisten, who never even emerged from Horus Lighthouse.
However, strangely—or perhaps unfortunately—her immediately younger sister, Adella Sylvestra de Roshiar, showed none of her sister's brilliance.
Some professors from the magic towers and the academy had harbored expectations for the second daughter of the Roshiar family, who never appeared in high society, but that enthusiasm was short-lived.
Just two days—no, from the entrance exam onward, people had noticed she was utterly unremarkable.
Adella had zero talent for magic.
"Oh, what? You actually brought it?"
"Yes. I didn't get caught this time, hehe."
And that was just the beginning. Look at her grinning like she was missing a few screws.
The moment Ansen saw this perfect pushover walk into the salon he ran, he was certain his academy life would get a lot easier.
Her appearance was certainly convincing.
With the cold, aloof features typical of northerners overlaid by an innocent, clumsy smile, her beauty was beyond words.
Plus, her head seemed to be full of flowers, so no matter how unreasonable the request, a little intimidation and she wouldn't refuse.
If he wanted, kneading that fresh young body to his heart's content would be a breeze.
"Good job. Hand it over."
"Here!"
One lingering question was why the Roshiar family let her roam free.
The only attendant Adella had brought was an elderly butler. No knight or mage for protection.
Nobles of earl rank or so usually stayed in villas or hotels prepared by Pharenchia instead of dorms, but she wasn't doing that either.
'Well, if the family lady is like this, they'd probably want to look the other way.'
He'd heard she hadn't even set foot in high society once. It spoke volumes about her reputation within the family.
A half-wit too embarrassing to show to outsiders—
"Um, so... does that mean I can attend the ball now?"
"Who knows? As you know, Pharenchia's social scene is dominated by the local lord's daughter. I'll mention it, but..."
So, what to make her do next? Oh, right. There was a magic duel exhibition match with the second-years coming up soon.
This year, promising heirs from prominent families, including Penheim's princess, had entered, but defeat for his lord would be a disgrace to the house.
In that case, maybe have her sabotage a teammate...
"Hey."
As Ansen spun his fantasies, someone approached them from behind the classroom.
Disheveled black hair, unkempt.
Plain tunic and shorts.
"Where'd you get that bread?"
The man shuffling over in his worn-out slippers was none other than the Canteen Owner.
Why the fuck do these bastards steal from my shop and use it for their little love affairs?
Some new trend from the capital for confirming romance? Even if so, theft was a clear crime.
'Fuck, I'm gonna squeeze every last drop outta these flea-livers.'
Strictly speaking, they were all nobles, while I was a commoner at best—closer to an untouchable whose status couldn't even be properly verified, let alone a title.
The gaping chasm in status and wealth.
From their perspective, I was probably more beaver than human, scraping by selling bread day to day.
That's why I fully understood the anguish of a beaver family watching their carefully felled logs get conscripted for some dam project.
The culprits themselves showed zero remorse.
"Hey, what the? You said you didn't get caught!"
"But..."
"Shut up. Hey, old man. You saying she stole bread? Got proof?"
"What's that in your hand?"
"Ah~ This?"
Ansen dropped the bread from his hand onto the floor and stomped it flat. Adella's shoulders twitched.
He scooped up dirt with his foot to cover it, sneering nonchalantly.
"Don't see it anywhere. No idea what you're talking about."
I stood there dumbfounded, blankly watching the scene.
Honestly, I couldn't fathom what these idiots were thinking.
But at least it was clear: as proud nobles, they had no intention of admitting guilt.
I trudged past Ansen.
Then reached out to Adella, who flinched every time our eyes met.
"Here. See it now?"
Pluck. Another loaf tumbled from her outer pocket. Ansen's mouth fell open—he clearly hadn't expected that.
"N-No, why the hell...! I told you to bring just one..."
"H-Hah, one was for me to eat..."
"One?"
Plop, plop, patter.
I grabbed her by the scruff and shook; bread poured out from inside her clothes like an avalanche.
Did she think I'd chase her all the way here over just one loaf?
It had taken her less than a second to sweep the entire display clean.
Her sleight of hand was goddamn artistic.
Our hero party struggled without a proper thief; if Adella had been born ten years earlier, we'd have recruited her on the spot.
"......"
"......"
"......"
An endless silence stretched on.
Finally, after a long quiet, Ansen removed his gloves and drew his sword.
"...To dare lay hands on a lady of the Roshiar family, a dignified student of the Penheim Kingdom Academy. As a knight, I cannot let this pass."
"Cut the bullshit, you thief. We both know you did it."
"En garde. To reclaim noble honor, I challenge you to a duel."
I dodged the flying glove and retorted, but Ansen showed no sign of backing down.
He even hurled the dagger from his waist, intent on shutting my mouth.
"Do you know the rules for duels within the academy?"
"No, aren't you first-years? Settle this with cash before I drag you to the student council."
"Magic is limited to three spells. It ends when one admits defeat or sustains life-threatening injury, decided by the witness—in this case, Lady Adella here."
Fuck, he's not listening. Just spouting his own crap.
If only all nobles were like Baroness Liv Greenwood.
The root of this mess, Adella, was picking up the fallen bread, dusting off the dirt.
Roshiar my ass—she showed no intention of intervening.
Wait, is she about to shove that back in her mouth?
"Can you even use magic? Heh."
A glow gathered on Ansen's sword.
Simultaneously, a water orb floated in his other hand, and a protective barrier enveloped his body.
Three spells manifested in an instant.
The completion was so-so, but the casting speed was impressive.
Confident in his abilities, he didn't hide his smirk.
"Scared? I'll even let you strike first. But don't think about running."
Oh, really. He's wielding a longsword while tossing me a sub-weapon for self-defense, and his tongue's just as long.
I clicked my tongue softly and picked up the sword.
The heavy feel after so long stirred old memories.
'Whitelett, is dueling really that honorable?'
'Of course.'
'Why? I've never swung a blade thinking that.'
As I wiped demon blood from the blade under the firelight, Terra approached.
Eris, exhausted from treating the massive wound on her back, had already collapsed over there.
'It's different from fighting demons, you know. A duel isn't war. The one in front of you isn't an enemy, but an equal opponent.'
'What's the difference?'
'Simple. You have to respect your opponent.'
The words still felt vague. Nova, brewing herbs nearby, stayed silent too.
'It's not just clashing swords—it's exchanging techniques. Holding back or striking from behind out of "consideration" is the ultimate insult.'
'Though to a third party like me, it sounds awfully stuffy~. With all the magic in the world, limiting to just three? Ridiculous.'
Is that how it is?
I checked my body's condition. Not like the old days, as expected.
I wasn't an expert in magic like Ansen claimed, but I wasn't completely useless either.
Problem was, I could only use up to three techniques at once, and two were already running passively.
One was the Magic End that had triggered when I grabbed Adella's wrist before—the spell that nullified any magic touching my body.
Dear White Knight, noble duels must be honorable. Going easy on the opponent is deeply insulting.
I decided to give my all within what my body could handle.
The sword felt awkward in my grip after so long.
"I can only use one spell."
"Oh? For real? Impressive for a commoner. Come at me. I'll fix that mouth of yours first."
"You asked for it. Don't blame me if you get hurt."
"Ha! Who does the lowly one think... Huh?"
Black Sun Fire Offering
⟨Eclipse Solitaire⟩
Die, you beaver fuck.
It was a strike infused with beaver spirits' grudge.
Boom———!!
'Where'd he go?'
Liv looked around frantically for the vanished Canteen Owner.
Then the sky suddenly darkened, and she turned back, thinking rain was coming.
All that remained were students waiting to check out.
A suspicious rumble echoed from afar, but everyone dismissed it as a failed experiment explosion.
"Ah... Um, excuse me..."
In the center of countless gazes, she swallowed hard and spoke.
Lunchtime was nearly over.
She'd asked for yesterday's leftovers, but the bread in her hand was fresh-baked, still warm.
"Shall I... ring you up?"
A small token of gratitude for his kindness.
Watching the shop for a bit should be fine—
A short while later, Liv sorted the pile of coins in the till, hung up the "Closed" sign, and returned to her dorm.
She wouldn't show it, but study time had been stolen.
With practical training next week, she'd bought extra Litvice Test Paper for practice.
[Experiment on the Relative Measurement of Mana and Karma]
With a library book open beside her, she pulled a bundle from her bag.
Highly sensitive to contact, it required careful handling.
'Hm? Short?'
There should have been twelve sheets, but only ten remained.
Miscounted at purchase? But the string was tied from the start.
Thinking she might have dropped some, Liv checked the side pocket and bottom.
Fortunately, she retrieved the missing sheets.
But—
"Huh?"
The two sheets were charred black as if burned, on the verge of crumbling.